


Yesterday

by Senket



Category: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VIII, Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Romance, Romantic Friendship, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2006-07-30
Updated: 2008-09-24
Packaged: 2017-11-12 08:19:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/488697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Senket/pseuds/Senket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Squall Leonhart and Cloud Strife, and their ability to communicate without words</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

"I swear to God," the whispers went, "they've got some kind of doped-up psychic bond or something! All they gotta do is look at each other and _bam_ they know."

"I dunno, it seems kinda-"

"Impossible? Yea! But did ya ever actually _watch_ them?"

Cloud and Leon were, yes, a school anomaly. Their apparently latent psychic powers were regarded as a wonder, and often talked about by those with little else to talk about- it was always the same couples breaking up and getting back together and breaking up, and as usual the football team and cheerleading squad made a messy soap opera.

However, as that was not mysterious at all, attention stayed on Leon and Cloud.

It annoyed both of the anti-social youths greatly, and when they passed by some of the rumor-mill members, their stance shifted at almost the same moment. They had it down to a science.

And as nearly no one noticed, that was exactly what their 'psychic bond' was. A science.

The exact knowledge of each other's body language, and an eventually developed series of signs they used with each other.

It was so- tiring, to try to communicate with words, when it always felt that the pain of the years past was blocking them. How do you say how something hurts? And it took so much effort to go up to someone and say 'I feel so wrong.' It only made sense that they would stay around each other when words were not needed to express something so simple and yet so hard at once.


	2. Aeris

"Well, look, anyway, I'm just thinking about the project and-" Aeris stopped for a moment, blinking at the blonde (he was staring out the window from where he was standingnear the door, on the other side of the room)."Hey, Cloud! Are you even listening to me?"

He regarded her with a glance, and though it would have answered the question quite clearly to a certain brunet, this one was unwilling to accept an answer unless it was spoken. "Cloud! Would you answer me for once? Are. You. Listening?"

"Yes," he hissed, intensely annoyed at her now. She KNEW he was listening! She just had to be bratty about it, didn't she? Yes, Aeris was a very sweet, kind, compassionate, etcetera being. But she was trying to make Cloud be someone he wasn't.

The clomping of thick-heeled combat boots made Cloud tilt his head just so much in the direction of the approaching student, and Aeris sighed, knowing she had just lost what attention she had (even if it had been much more than she was thinking it was).

Leon regarded her for a moment, arms folded across his chest, before bowing his head for a moment. She shrugged, smiling at him. "Hello Leon."

He didn't bother returning the greeting, of course. As far as he was aware, he had already given her one. He turned to Cloud then, taking in his somewhat furrowed eyebrows.

"I heard you were looking for me?"

For a second his eyes widened in realization, expression clearing before he nodded. Leon shifted from one foot to the other, lips pressing together. 'What?'

Cloud waved his hand at him, warning him not to get impatient. After a moment, he sighed, falling into a loose position, not quite balanced. His eyes flickered to the upper left as he chewed on his lip for a moment before nodding to himself, gaze dropping to the floor. "Do you… have time?" His uncharacteristic slouching alerted Leon to what exactly was involved. Rather, it showed that the blonde felt nervous about bringing it up, and defeated by the subject at hand. As far as Leon was aware, only one thing made him feel that way.

Leon watched him for a moment, brows drawn together. When Cloud finally looked up again, their eyes meeting, he held his gaze again before nodding carefully, then cocking his head to the side. He uncrossed his arms, tapping two fingers against the underside of his upturned wrist. 'I'm worried about you…' and 'Yes, but when?'

Cloud looked thoughtful before raising four fingers. Leon cast him an annoyed look, tossing his head towards a confused and extremely annoyed Aeris. As far as she was aware, asking someone if they had time usually meant here, now, to talk or something. But neither of them had moved to get somewhere more private, or even spoken! Yes, like everyone else she knew that between them, words were rarely used, but still! It was enough to give anyone a headache, and she had to deal with this every day. 'Four?' 'I've got something with Aeris then' and 'you should know that!'

Cloud sighed haggardly, tugging at a clump of hair. 'Sorry.' Leon could tell he was more than a little unsure of himself right now.

The brunet shifted his feet again, but his shoulders fell slack, expression softening. 'Its okay…'

Cloud let out a soft sound, almost like a whine, raising seven fingers this time and tapping his pocket lightly. 'Seven, I'll pay for dinner?'

Leon shifted back, nodding, before he raised his hand in a sort of salute, walking back the way he came. The encounter had only taken a few moments, and Leon was now headed back to the class where Zexion had so graciously informed him about Cloud.

Aeris drew a long, shuddering breath, before snapping out "So. About that project."

Cloud's chest heaved for a moment, shaking his head slowly before he moved back into his usual stance, turning his head to look at her. 'Yes..?'


	3. Zack

_Language was created for a very specific reason- the human mind, over the millennia, had become a very speculative thing. It began to contemplate, invent, memorize, hypothesize. Man no longer thought "Animal move. Follow animal." Humans, instead, thought "If we follow this stage, then it would seem that there is probably a correlation between the season and the amount of game; therefore it would be best to try to move towards warmer climates as winter approaches, in this case we can be ahead of the herd and catch them by surprise, while having time to get to grasses and berries before they do ." Movement can say so much about someone- what they are feeling at the moment, what sort of person they are, what they feel towards certain people or things... Movement is a pattern of life. However, one cannot communicate completely through only movement, and so language was created; to discuss these higher thoughts. To discuss happenings that one cannot simply gesture to- like the past. No one can completely understand another without language. The question is: how much must they use- and when does its use become a cover for a lack of understanding of movement?_

It was a Thursday night and the restaurant was near deserted. There was an older couple near the entrance, and a small group of college students who only had four day weeks sitting somewhere in the middle of the dining area. Squall "Leon" Leonhart and Cloud Strife had taken the booth in the very back corner of the room. Knowing of Cloud's fragile state, Leon had volunteered to let him have the seat against the wall. From it, the blonde could observe anyone stepping through the door. Having a seat to the back of near anyone in the establishment made him uncomfortable, but as long as Cloud didn't tense, he would be fine. They both, after all, recognized danger at more or less the same level.

Only half-aware he was drumming his fingers, the brunet stared out the window, seeing nothing beyond faint motion. Autumn was on its last leg, and one could smell the crisp scent of frost when they stepped outside in the morning. At seven, it was not quite dark yet, but the storm outside bleached the world of its color and filled it instead with gray ink. The glass was blurred, of course, and the darkness spotted only by the occasional streetlights or store across the way made actual street-watching nearly impossible. Instead, Leon observed the semi-transparent reflection of his friend, holding the menu before him but staring vaguely at an invisible spot somewhere above the dotted fake-marble of the table.

A second form appeared in the glass, at first a distant yellow blob and then a girl with a face and hair that curled at the ends, barely brushing her shoulder. She grinned brightly, cocking her head to the side. "Well, what can I get you boys?"

"Kung Pao Chicken," Cloud answered with a hollow sigh. Leon flashed him a worried glance, but the teenager wasn't looking at him.

He stilled for a moment, half-pondering, before realizing that the girl was still waiting, expression just slightly strained. Not that she was annoyed, but rather that she had too much energy to be standing still for such a prolonged amount of time. "Seven-treasure Duck." After all, if his friend was paying, he had the right to take advantage. It was a long and unspoken rule that neither would hold back when it came to something as frivolous as to cost. Money _was_ of object, yes, but not so much so. "And tea."

She nodded brightly, turning back to Cloud. "Anything for you to drink, sir?"

"Sharing," he answered blankly, and apparently she had her share of experience because she knew what he had asked for and left without worry.

Head already turned, Leon contented himself to keep a strait eye on the blonde. He unwittingly began drumming his fingers again; whether from impatience or nervousness it was hard to tell. Cloud cast him a dark glance, feeling enough turmoil already without an annoying habit to listen to. Leon stared back at him in deadpan, but his fingers stopped moving. Cloud sighed and returned to withdrawn introspection. After a moment, Leon started drumming his fingers again, partially from annoyance, partially from the uncomfortable feeling he got from not being able to see everyone else in the room, partially to draw the blonde out and partially out of spite.

The slight teenager uttered a curse under his breath, half-heartedly slamming his hand down on the tabletop, glaring at the scarred brunet. Leon sent him a hard look in reply. _'If you're going to talk, **talk** already. …Dumbass.'_ Needless to say, he was Not Amused.

Cloud bit the inside of his cheek, fingers twisting together and then unknotting before starting again, blue eyes observing them. He sent an almost shy glace back at Leon before staring at his fingers once again, swallowing nervously. They stayed like that for a prolonged amount of time before tea was set before them. Swallowing some of the drink hastily to give him something to do, Cloud managed to burn the soft lining of his tongue and throat. Leon leaned forward in his seat, worried and half ready to mother hen about it, but the blonde refused eye contact and therefore communication, swallowing some water.

Leon scoffed softly, refusing to agree to this separation. "Idiot."

Cloud sent him a furtive glance again, before taking a deep breath to calm himself. It did not help, and he held it instead. Leon crossed his arms and leaned back into the high booth, returning his now half-angry gaze back to the window. His eyes, though, did not stray from the man's figure. He would give him until the food arrived and their bright waiter disappeared again before he started pushing. Thankfully, he didn't have to- at least not right away. "Zack came over Saturday."

Anyone else would have missed it, but not Leon. Cloud's body language didn't really change; if anything, he just seemed less willing to do anything but stare at his fingers. The brunet blanked out for a moment, absorbed in a sort of web of disbelief. He really expected he would spend most of the night trying to drag an explanation out of his companion. After a moment, sentient thought seemed to have returned, and his gaze moved from a mimicking reflection to the nervous creature itself. He slid on the booth seats, away from the window so that he was smack dab before the teenager. Leaning forward, he drew Cloud's hands away from each other, placing them on the table a fair distance apart.

Their eyes met and Leon drew back against the cushions, surprise written all across his face. Cloud had the most desperate expression, eyebrows drawn up and eyes half-closed and practically liquid, wrinkles forming in his forehead, mouth twisted. He looked more vulnerable than his friend could remember seeing him: last time they had had a serious conversation, he had spent the entire time hunched in his chair, expression completely hidden behind his hands and hair. _Apparently,_ Squall Leonhart had gained a fair bit of trust between then and now.

He was unsure as to how to react, carefully drawing back towards the blonde, as though afraid he would scare like a volatile deer and scurry away, leaving Leon not only with too much food to eat and a bill, but with dangerously strong worry and a fair load of guilt. He wondered, quite absurdly considering, if maybe he should _say_ something, before Cloud cut him off. "… and Sephiroth came with." He watched (stared) in silence (brain whirring impossibly), unable to thing of what to do.

Leon knew that the silver-haired- well, god, to put it fairly was a severely sore spot with Cloud. He knew all about how the teenager had more or less worshipped him when they still went to the same school, desperate to do anything for him. Cloud had been a softer person then, more innocent. Some would argue that he was more real and yet the brunet knew it was a lie if he ever heard one. He had been more open, granted, but he did not bear to deep scars he did now. Scars caused by that very same person, as it were. Having always been of sexual attractiveness, Cloud was not someone anyone would simply reject when he was so willing. Sephiroth had taken full and complete advantage of that frantic fixation, and bedded the blonde repeatedly. But even Sephiroth was not quite as shallow as that, and eventually it was revealed that the older man had a rather avid interest in someone else; the blonde's best friend, Zack. The dark-haired teen himself had been completely unaware that anything had been happening and the day after Sephiroth and he had officially gotten together, he had gone to Cloud to apologize avidly. "I know you really like him," he had said, ignorantly. "I'm so sorry Cloud, but I couldn't say no. I… have a crush on him too, you know, and- oh Cloud, I'm _so_ sorry!" And that had been how the blonde had found out things were over between him and Sephiroth.

The 'mood,' shall we say, was roughly interrupted by the girl in the yellow returning with their plates. "Here we go, boys! All piping hot just for you!" The sharp crash of ceramic against the table sounded magnified, horrendous. The echo caused them both headaches. Cloud worked his jaw, teeth grinding. His hands fisted in his lap, eyes suddenly dark, expression hardening. It made Leon blindingly angry for some reason, and he turned a vehement glare towards the waitress.

She appeared completely unfazed, grin unbearably bright, matching her dress, as he locked her fingers behind her, rocking back on her heels. "What's the gloomy mood for, boys?" Neither answered, Cloud withdrawing deeper into himself. Leon was getting close to snapping before she apparently finally got the hint. "Fine, fine, I know when I'm unwanted. Tell me when you want your bill!"

Her interruption, it would seem, had disrupted much more than just the mood. Cloud spent the rest of dinner fidgeting, eyes darting about to the other occupants nervously and almost afraid, as though at any time they were going to come at him with a knife. He spent most of the time starting at the door with an expression that was almost worse, and Leon knew that the blonde's paranoia had kicked in and he was waiting for Sephiroth to walk in, just because he had been named. Cloud's brunet companion spent the rest of dinner watching him, sending him some reassuring signals whenever he started getting out of hand. Nothing managed to improve over time, and Leon was willing to wager they were in fact getting worse. Cloud was withdrawing into himself more and more, and by the time Selphie returned, having deemed their meals done, his eyes were glazed over and he seemed to be undertaking a war with himself. Selphie's question about desert had been vehemently shot down, and she seemed actually down for once in what Leon guessed was a lifetime of overboard cheerfulness. Cloud paid cash without a word and stood to leave, and change didn't mean anything at all right now. It would make for a bit of extra tip, anyway.

Leon was very glad, suddenly, that he had opted to walk rather than drive his motorcycle here. The walk towards their houses was silent, tense, Leon always half a step behind the blond. He watched the stars and the plume of white breath that curled into the air, rain splattering his brow. Cloud's head was lowered, wet hair curving to his face, spikes smoothed out and laying flat. Leon's hands curled around the edge of his fur-rimmed jacket, while Cloud's arms were crossed tightly across his chest, keeping him warm and protected from much more than just the rain. Leon glanced back down at Cloud everyone once in a while, and Cloud just watched the pavement hazily.

They hit 138th Avenue, where Leon would continue down the main road and Cloud would turn to head for his apartment complex. The blonde tilted his head so he could see Leonhart's profile out of one eye, chewing on his lip nervously. Leon had lowered his own gaze, worried silver-blue eyes fixed on his face. He had stopped moving altogether, waiting for Cloud to say something, but all he could make out was the splatter of rain hitting the sidewalk.

"Well," the blonde started in a too-meek voice, "I'll see you tomorrow." And even if Leon hadn't been painfully aware something was desperately wrong, that would have set him off instantly.

And that was not something the brunet could allow, because he knew it wasn't over- that he had not heard what mattered. He had already guessed, already _known_ it was something about Sephiroth. The older teen began to walk off before, in a moment of desperation, Leon grabbed him by the shoulders, spinning him around so they were face to face. "Tell me! _Tell me what happened!_ "

Dazzling blue eyes lowered from his face, staring at an unknown space between there. A long moment passed between them, hard and uncomfortable. This time, the rain was accompanied by the harsh sound of Cloud's breathing, eyebrows creased as he strove for the right words. "I- we… had sex. With Zack sleeping in the next room over. We- I betrayed him, Leon. Zack. I... fuck. _I betrayed Zack._ "

Leon swallowed the lump building in his throat, pain and worry and fear building in him, but more so an intense hatred. Sephiroth had mistreated one of his few friends, his closest friend, in fact, the only person who could understand him at least a little. Sephiroth had used him, thrown him away, and every once in a while picked Cloud back up like an old toy a child finds and plays with again for a bit, nostalgically. That would have angered Leon, but he would have left it to Cloud, because the blonde was that way. But Sephiroth had not only done that- he had caused Cloud to betray one of his deepest values- that of friendship. For the Strife, being hurt, well, _hurt_ ; but hurting someone else… the vicious man had effectively broken his 'lover'. Again. And for that, Leon was not going to be just _angry_ at Sephiroth. He was going to _kill_ him.


	4. Zexion

Leon pursed his lips, lidded eyes darting to the clock. He felt the constant buzz of nervous, angry energy fill his body, thick and unrelenting in its fullness. He shifted forward, the swell of base emotions churning in his stomach. Lust swarmed him, and that angered him too. Why the hell would anger make him horny? He tore a paper from his notebook and crumbled it in his hand, the thin sheet crackling at his rudeness. It made him angry, and lust grew stronger, and that made him angrier yet. Storm-gray eyes searched for a target, wanting to make someone just as miserable as he felt currently.

It was not an especially hard find, considering. Emo-boy Zexion was squirming faintly, leaning forward as far as he could without tipping forward, visible eye half-wide and fixed intently on their teacher. His mouth was half-open, pink tongue dashing out to wet his pink lips.

Leon uncurled the paper in a jerk, accidentally tearing off a corner. He tossed the small piece somewhere and smoothed out what was left, scribbling something messily. He crumbled in up again and threw accurately; the projectile sailed over to Zexion and hit his shoulder before falling to the floor.

The slight boy made a short, strangled sound of surprise and discontent, abruptly sitting up. He glanced about with a frown, searching for his assailant. No one was looking at him, so he forgot that and nudged the note towards him with his foot, picking it up deftly. Long fingers unfurled it, stroking out the wrinkles as he read.

At first his expression was on of surprise, eyebrows curving upwards in dumbfounded question. Annoyance flickered across his face, a netting of indrawn brows, tight mouth, narrowed eyes. He lit up suddenly, brows curving again, a faint sneer spreading across his lips. He picked up his pen, flicking strands of hair out of his face in a depressingly upbeat way. He sank into his seat like an overconfident prince as he wrote his reply, foot curling around the leg of his desk almost sensually. He turned and flicked the note back.

Catching it was no issue for Leon, who read it with an aggravated little frown. He grabbed his pen full-fisted, the force in his grip too strong for any flimsy make. He was about to write something furiously insulting when a shadow fell across his desk, and faint feeling of tension filling him. His feet drew closer to his body, back straightening as he glanced up slowly. " _Do_ pass it over, Mr. Lionheart."

He reluctantly handed it over, eyes fixed on Zexion. This particular teacher, having little to no patience for the majority of shenanigans, tended to read notes aloud in class so that embarrassment would keep the students from doing it again- or at least, from getting caught. Frankly, Leon was more worried about Zexion than himself, eyes returning to watch the man as he read.

' _Stop fantasizing about teach, emo-boy'_

' _Who said anything about **fantasizing** , wannabe? The real thing is much better.'_

One of Xemnas' eyebrows went up, and his frown smoothed into an amused, self-satisfied smirk. Leon felt his face scrunch, though he supposed by Zexion's response, he shouldn't be surprised. The teacher returned to the front of the class, dropping the note into the trash can as he passed, expression returning to blank stoicism. He regarded both boys closely before quirking a brow, sunset-orange eyes focusing on the smaller of the two students, expression carefully stern. "Since you seem to be the instigator, Mr. Ienzo, I'll see you after school."

A knowing smirk flickered onto the boy's face before he carefully schooled his expression, dribbling a thin amount of meek shame through, lowering his eyes. He swallowed, speaking in a soft, heightened voice. "Yes, sir." It took the class a moment or two to settle, but at that moment when they were quietly listening again, Zexion turned around, meeting Leon's eyes.

His smirk was loud, a clear look of victory written all across his face, in the way he was looking at the brunet through lidded eyes, back curved back, shoulders square and pushed back. He flashed a triumphant, mocking smile, turning back to face the front.

Leon hissed angrily, arms crossed across his chest stubbornly as he sunk in his seat. He knew quite well what Zexion was implying, and it annoyed him all the more. Meanwhile, his stomach continued to burn.

* * *

Lunch came, and Leon was intensely glad for it, the tension building in his muscles almost overbearing. He dropped his tray on the table, perhaps a bit too harshly, reaching out quickly to steady the teetering can of soda. He sat heavily, eyes dark as he stared ahead, leaning forward so fat that his body was practically splayed across the tabletop. He sat there for a moment, quiet, glaring at whatever happened to be in his range of sight. He took a deep breath suddenly, stealing himself, pushing back from the table and turning his head. "Cloud--" He cut off, staring at the blonde with a twist in his mouth.

Cloud had his back to him, torso contorted to face Tifa, who was seated beside him. He clearly wasn't paying to slightest bit of attention to what she was saying judging from the way his shoulders curved forward, free arm hugged against his chest, brows drawn together tightly as bright-blue eyes stared at a spot on the wall just over Tifa's shoulder.

Leon gritted his teeth, drumming his fingers anxiously against the laminated sage-green tabletop. "This is _absurd_ ," he hissed, and Cloud only answered with a tensing of his shoulders, head dipping down almost as a turtle drawing into its shell. Leon's hand curled into a fist, something in his replying to the sudden rift between them with dark frustration- frustration that had been building in him all weekend. He had been nice to Cloud, done what he knew the blonde would have wanted him to do after his confession on Thursday and left him quietly alone. But Saturday came around, a date that had been predetermined for a few weeks as a date for them to go spar or something, and Leon had discovered that he had been cut off, and quite cleanly too.

"Cloud, would you turn around and _look_ at me?" The blonde made no move, and so Leon took his arm, tugging on it strongly. Cloud jerked his head around, cerulean eyes brighter for their bloodshot appearance- his expression was angry and closed, and Leon didn't know what to do. He'd seen his friend at a low before, but not like _this_. He punched him lightly in the arm, voice weak as he spoke. "Hey… you're being stupid."

Blue eyes widened suddenly, the v-shape in Cloud's brows making him seem almost insane if not for the clear slackness of his limbs. It only lasted a moment before he flung his shoulders back, turning away from the brunet as he stood, leaving hurriedly. His strides were long and quick, purposeful. His back was unnaturally straight, fists curled enough that his fingers drained of blood and turned wan white, all the more disturbing to Leon considering how naturally pale he was.

Leon growled, pushing his lunch tray up to clear a space, crossing his arms there and dropping his head on them. Aeris and Tifa straightened out a bit, curving their necks to look at him. "Something wrong, Leon?" The pink-clothed brunette asked, voice melodious and carefully soothing. He freed an arm and waved his hair in the air noncommittally, head firmly fixed against the table. The girls sighed together and glanced at each other with that knowing look before deciding that any effort spent to prod it out of him (or Cloud) would be rather useless, and so it wasn't worth trying. Things would resolve themselves eventually.

* * *

Leon's last period was history. It was a subject he was remarkable adept at, which perhaps explained why he felt he had no need to try and pay attention. He pulled what he had been doing during chemistry, except with a purpose this time. Cloud was seated in front of him, eyes cast on the teacher but glazed with boredom.

He began with a note. Its contents had been thought out, tense minutes with the brunet trying to figure out how to best extract cloud from his shell. The blonde had opened it, read, and curled it up again, and threw it for the trash. It hit the inner rim and bounced in, a girl a few seats forward turning back to give him a smile, probably meant to be congratulatory. He either didn't notice or didn't care.

Leon gritted his teeth and tried again. This time the words had no real meaning, a stupid comment on the lecture going on. Cloud read it, scoffed softly, and tossed it with the first.

Annoyed but relentless, Leon decided that a reaction at all was a step in the right direction and tried again. This time he scribbled down a joke he had heard; one he had never found particularly funny even, but it was something. Cloud didn't even bother to open it this time, allowing it to meet its predecessors right away. Pissed beyond belief, Leon leaned back in his seat and started projectile shooting with the paper- with the back of the blonde's head as his target, of course. Except for the indrawn slope of his shoulder and slight curl forwards, Cloud did not react. Leon smirked, hard and unhappy, and kept going- that is, until the blonde's patience snapped and he turned around and decked Leon.

Obviously, they both had detention- Cloud had punched Leon, but Leon had been the one to initiate the game of instigation and response. They sat in silence on opposite sides of the room. Cloud was leaning back in his new seat, arms crossed stubbornly across his chest. The foot on the inside of the room, closest to Leon, was up on the desk, unconsciously forming a sort of barrier the way his arm had at lunch, creating a wall between him and the rest of the room- and consequentially, him and Leon. His face was outturned, eyes locked out the window. He gazed at nothing, a stubborn little frown marring his handsome face.

Leon had an elbow on the desk, propping his head up, palm cupping his cheek. It was the outside hand, blocking out the rest of the world and reducing it to just him and Cloud. He watched his friend, torso curved towards him. He inspected the closed expression from across the room, searching for any way to fix whatever was wrong. He was angry that Cloud was this way, angry to be here, and definitely angry to know that, thanks to his _genius_ , Zexion was probably 'in detention' making out with the chem teacher. _Right now_. It was sickening, maddening, and in any case, _just not fair_. Not that he wanted the chemistry teacher of all people. Just ick. The man was, by standards, plenty attractive he was sure… but he didn't even want to _think_ about it! He grimaced at the thought and then let out a long sigh.

Cloud continued to ignore him.

* * *

The entirety of detention had, very unfortunately, passed in the same manner- Leon's frustration building and Cloud somehow managing to stay absolutely unresponsive throughout. An attempt at doing homework had ended in an extended confinement, torn paper littered around his desk and an annoyed look from Cloud. A 'bathroom break' had ended in something close to blackmail when he, feeling rather vengeful, had walked right into the chem room. Instead of taking pictures the way he intended to, he threw a fit and threw the camera at the student-teacher couple. "I couldn't have you sent to jail, you know."

Xemnas had smirked, bright orange-yellow eyes half-lidded. He watched the brunet from under his hair, Zexion's head pressed against his chest, waiting for Leon to leave again. He had that smug expression that just drove Leon mad. "Yes. But you won't." And with a strangled cry, he was back in the prison-room again for a while.

After a bout of banging his head against his desk out of sheer frustration, the teacher finally let them go. In the few moments it took him to get his things together, Cloud had already shot out the door and left- it was about that time he realizes he was very late in getting home, and he'd probably miss the monthly call from his mother in- where were they now? Belize? Peru?

Today just wasn't him day (week, month, year, decade, life, take your pick). He stomped off, muttering obscenities to himself as he reached the parking lot. He mounted his motorcycle, darkened eyes fixed on the horizon. He couldn't think properly anymore, overridden by stress and anxiety and aggravation. His bike roared to life between his thighs, a sort of personal extension of his internal anger, and he peeled out of the parking lot, shooting down the street. His body was too tense, leaning forward so far he was pressed against the frame like a racer. He twisted onto the highway, making dangerously sharp turns as he swerved around cats- that is, until a V-bug pulled unexpectedly in front of him and he flipped over it, motorcycle et al.

Shock settled in rather quickly, aided by the endorphins already filling his brain. He stared blankly at the violet-blue sky, vaguely realizing that he was on his back, that the loud crack earlier probably meant that his insurance would shoot through the roof- not to mention a possible license revocation considering how reckless he had been. He'd also undoubtedly need a new helmet, because he was pretty sure it had cracked in lieu of his skull. He hoped that his very favorite fur-rimmed leather jacket hadn't sustained too much damage, because it was irreplaceable. Funny, though, how he didn't seem to fill any pain…

It was at about that point that he blacked out, dreamily hoping that no one would run him over.


	5. Sephiroth

A bright rectangle of light marked the floor, streaming in from beneath the thick, white canvas curtain from where it hung a few centimeters away from the open window

A bright rectangle of light marked the floor, streaming in from beneath the thick, white canvas curtain from where it hung a few centimeters away from the open window. Fresh air trickled into the dark room; a burst of chirping came in from outside and bright blue eyes narrowed in its direction. A few moments passed before a flutter of wings, and the man sighed, gaze dropping to the prone figure before him. He shuddered faintly at the sight, fingers twisting together as he dropped his gaze to the floor. "This is all my fault…"

"How true." Blue eyes flickered and widened, moving back to the patient. His shoulders relaxed, and he leaned back into his chair, exhaling slowly, relieved. One hand settled in his lap, the other covering his mouth and the slowly building smile in his expression. It crinkled his eyes up anyhow, and Leon could see it in the faint light.

"You're supposed to be asleep." He leaned forward, inspecting the bruised face. Leon rolled his eyes, smirking faintly as he sunk tiredly into the pillows gathered around and beneath him.

"Someone needs to make you feel guilty," he answered in a soft tone, words faintly graveled because of his dry throat. He chuckled weakly, and it turned into a ragged cough.

Cloud tensed, straining forward, knot between his brows deepening. Leon shot him a sharp look and the blonde harrumphed, leaning back again. "That's what you get for ignoring me," the injured man added, darkened eyes trained on his friend. Cloud made a show of looking everywhere but at the man before their eyes met again; they both smiled faintly before Leon's entire body sunk back, lids flickering closed.

Eyes fixing back onto his knotted hands, Cloud sighed quietly. The clock was much too loud, ticking away sharply. "Cloud…" He looked up at the tired croak, shoulders sinking into his chest. "What's wrong with me?"

Pursing his lips, he let his head drop back, staring at the tiled ceiling. The silence was tense now, buzzing, and he wanted to break the damn clock. "Broken leg. Fractured hip. Dislocated shoulder… ribs still healing. You've been out three days, about."

"…okay."

"Leon…" his voice was sticky- he swallowed, but it didn't do any good.

"It's fine," he cut off, looking towards the covered window blankly. "We'll talk about it later."

Leon hadn't complained when the doctor told him he would need crutches. He'd smirked when he was told strenuous activity would surely destroy his hip all over again, never mind possibly make his shoulder extremely painful- never mind his ribs, though at least they seemed to be healing quickly. He'd only groaned theatrically when the man gave him a regimen of antibiotics. When he'd been told he would have to move in with someone temporarily every muscle had tensed, forming a deep throb in all the parts of his body that were still recovering from the abuse. He'd gotten a reprimand for it, too. It was really too bad for him Tifa and Aeris had been present and ready to bully him into anything.

Tifa's family was loud and boisterous, and Aeris's parents, obnoxiously kind as they were, made him nervous. Luckily, Cloud lived with his uncle, Cid, a rugged older pilot who was never really at home. Besides, he had that extra room. Leon was just relieved that he wouldn't have to deal with any strangers 'eager to know him.'

That formed the events leading to a rather disorienting morning for the brunet. He hobbled down the carpeted stairs in a pair of loose, gray drawstring pants, annoyed by the restrictive feel of the bandages around his chest and the dull thrum of pain traveling through his shoulder.

A flash of gold passed across his pain-blurred vision and he followed, pausing in the doorway. Leaning against the painted frame, he narrowed his eyes as he waited for his vision to clear. His young host slipped past in various directions, looking here for milk, there for a bowl, grabbing some fruit as he headed for the pantry. Leon sighed and the activity ceased, Cloud watching him as he began to move again, carefully lowering himself into the chair nearest to the door. Cloud stood still, watching the taller boy wearily, before setting the entire mess on the table, sitting across from the brunet. "Do you need aspirin or something?"

He realized hazily that Cloud had his hair drawn back in a small nub, slivers of golden hair falling into his face. Coffee dripped rhythmically into a pot in the corner, leaving a thick scent permeating the room. Accompanied by the machine's low hum, he found himself oddly peaceful, melting slowly into the feeling.

"…Leon?" He straightened out, focus sharpening as he looked at- and actually saw- Cloud's expression. He blinked, frowning.

"Oh? …Um… no, that's fine. Thanks."

The blonde leaned back, fixing him with an odd stare. "Are you sure?" he asked slowly, sounding as though he thought Leon had lost it. Or, at least, that the pain was greatly affecting his ability to function.

"I'm sure," he answered sullenly, shifting in his seat. He seemed to get distracted again, looking around a kitchen he had seen plenty before, before focusing back on Cloud. Though, perhaps, 'focusing' was not quite an accurate word.

"Hungry?"

"No."

"…Alright." Cloud settled slowly, thoughtfully narrowed eyes fixed on the brunet for several long moments before he began to eat his cereal, ignoring the dreamy, far-off way Leon was staring at him with an odd little smile.

Class felt extensive and painful. A variety of people he'd never considered talking to asked him what had happened- a few overly energetic girls even going as far as to request signing his cast. At that point he was tempted to simply paint it black, but the thought of them approaching him with glittery gel pens made him fearful.

Lunch was just as exhausting, though at least Tifa, Aeris and Cloud fended away the majority of people for him. Personally, he was just glad Cloud was too busy wavering between worry and irritation to sulk.

Time passed steadily, and a good week or two had come and gone before anything of particular interest occurred. Unfortunately, this 'particular interest' was hardly positive.

Cloud was already in the kitchen, preparing dinner. It irritated him, how the blond never seemed to be doing any work for school, and yet their grades were on par. Then again, he seemed to be irritated fairly often these days. His shaky march towards the kitchen paused at a sharp ring of the doorbell, and his head cocked towards the door, staring with one eye. Cloud- was cooking, and he was nearby, so he should... but he didn't live here...

It rang again, the visitor evidently impatient. "Open the door, would you?" Cloud's voice was sharp, a touch annoyed; he hardly seemed to care for Leon's 'temporary' status. He moved to the entranceway with forced efficiency, yanking it open. There was a tall man in the way, young, particularly smug. Angled, violently green eyes started back at him unnervingly, gaze fixed with narrowed eyes and unwavering intensity, a thin smirk twitching on thin, pale lips, agile, manicured fingers curling in endless silver-white strands. Leon knew anyone remotely alright with one night stands- and some not, though of the more susceptible kind- would fall into his arms; literally, since he practically radiated 'hard to please,' and so would be forced to throw themselves at him to get anywhere. Neither of those things warmed the man to Leon at all.

"Where's Cloud?"

"I don't see how it's any of your business." He shifted forward, trying to combat the unsettling 'prey' feeling the man gave him, eyes locked with sharp green. His expression was hard, knuckles white as fingers tightened around his crutches.

"Listen," the man informed with a haughty smirk, shoulders thrown back. Fingers slid out of silver hair, settling against a sharp hip, thumb caressing the waistband of his pants, an easy and oft-used distraction. Besides, the brunet was kind of cute- if only he could remove that damn glare and be more- ahem- submissive. A quick tongue darted out, lips brushed with a wet sheen. "Just tell me where he is and I won't have to force myself in."

"Why should-"

"Leon," Cloud called out from the kitchen, "where did you put the garlic?"

Sephiroth and Leon stared at each other. The brunet seemed anxious and put off, trying to shift his weight and moving back as the rest beneath his arm got uncomfortable. He would start to glare and, realizing he was getting defensive, force his expression to relax and blanken- it would only last a few moments before his lips would purse, fingers tightening. The silver-haired man smirked lazily, eyes half-lidded, head leaned back and exposing his neck. His stance was very open, inviting even, and with self-satisfied expression Leon felt an undercurrent of lust run through him.

He suppressed it quickly, intense dislike for the man himself overpowering any sort of physical attraction. His eyes snapped away to look towards the kitchen, ignoring the way Sephiroth looked so dangerously pleased with himself. "On the windowsill."

When he turned back, Sephiroth was leaning against the doorframe, head bent over him. "Let me in," he purred, index grazing against the brunet's collarbone.

He stiffened instantly, stubbornly refusing to lean away. "Stay the hell away from him," he snapped back.

"Oh, you know," he breathed against Leon's cheek, "I'm not here for much." The infirm twitched, eyes falling finally, fixing on the sharp line of the taller man's shoulder. Sephiroth deservedly took it as a victory. "It's just that when I fucked him the other day he wore my boxers afterwards, and I want them back. They're expensive, you know." Leon shuddered with anger, jaw clenching painfully.

Cloud strode out of the kitchen, watching the pot of sauce sideways as he left. "Leon? Who was the-" motion stopped as electric blue met poisonous green. "...Sephiroth."

The man stretched against the doorframe smoothly, lust-hooded eyes following the blond closely. "Hello Cloud. Did you miss me?"

A silence-shattering clatter brought their attention to Leon, where one of his crutches had fallen across the floor. His hand was fisted, white and shaking, and in one moment it slammed against Sephiroth's jaw. A stilted moment later the man rammed his upper arm against the brunet's body, sending him crashing against the wall. A sharp snap sounded over the sound of scuffling, and Leon howled in pain. The room exploded with shouting.

"What the hell is your problem?"

"Stay the fuck away from Cloud!"

"Don't tell me what to do!"

And Cloud got involved, but not the way Leon would have expected. "You're still fucked up from the crash, you asshole! What's wrong with you?"

"Get the fuck out!"

"Let me in, jackass."

"I'm going to beat you to a bloody pulp!"

"Jesus Christ, Leon!"

"Don't you fucking talk to me like that."

"Shut the fuck up!"

"I'm going to break your other leg, you infirm."

"Don't you fucking touch him, Sephiroth."

"Oh, defending the pansy, are we?"

"GET OUT!" Cloud screamed, shoving Sephiroth out of the doorway and slamming it shut, speedily locking up.

He fell against the door heavily, slumped, sliding the tie out of his hair slowly; Leon was close enough to feel the heat emanating off the young man but did not touch him. They stood there awkwardly for a bit, Leon's eyes wandering, Cloud's closed. "You shouldn't have done that."

"He damned well deserved it," the brunet hissed defensively, slumping against his single crutch.

"I'm more worried about your shoulder than Sephiroth," he answered softly, fingers brushing slowly against it. Leon winced, stumbling away. "I need to push it back..."

He straightened up, lifting off the door, pressing his palm lightly against the skin. Leon jerked back violently, hissing. "Leon." He clenched his teeth, fingers spreading in front of his shoulder protectively. "I'll have to do it eventually, and it'll just hurt until I do."

"I can deal with pain," he answered thickly, looking down his nose at the blonde, back stiff.

"Stop being such a child."

"I'll fix it myself," he gritted out, refusing to look him straight in the eye despite his otherwise strong stature. Cloud recognized the grudging fear for what it was, despite Leon's desperate effort to hide it. Besides, it was obvious he was in pain from the jerking muscle in his jaw.

He stepped towards him, annoyed at the resistance. The teenager moved against the wall, needing security behind him. He straightened against it, intending to realign his shoulder against the flat surface. He pushed at it, but lightly, eyes narrowed with the effort of resisting pain.

Cloud watched with an impassive stare, distinctly unamused. His eyes were hard, brows drawn in the faintest frown. Lines deepened around his mouth, finger tapping against his arm. He moved to Leon in long strides, prying his fingers away. "Now, hold still." Storm-gray eyes fixed on him with a frown; the blond ignored the gaze. One hand pinned his chest to the wall, the other exerting a gently pressure on the dislocated shoulder. "Okay, on three. One. Two."

He hit it sharply with his open palm and Leon howled again. "Asshole," he hissed, entire body strung like a harp.

"If you'd been prepared for it, you would've been far too tense. It would've hurt far more. Besides," he smiled, all teeth and eyes narrowed, hunched forward and looking at him through his bangs- it was vicious. "You deserved it." Leon slumped, watching him carefully, dazed. "Don't scare me like that," he explained smoothly, avoiding Leon's eye and touch as he slipped back into the kitchen. His steps were completely silent, and that was the only way Leon could tell how put off he really was.

Darkened eyes followed the blond as he rolled his shoulders back, faint trembles of pain shuddering through him. He sighed quietly and picked up the first crutch, hopping over to the one near the door before following Cloud into the kitchen for dinner.


End file.
